Apparently we're in a recession? And the music industry is in its death throes? Walking the streets of downtown Austin Wednesday afternoon and night, you wouldn't know. SXSW seems perfectly healthy, teeming with as many colorful characters as ever. Interscope can still afford to slap ads for the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album on the back windows of taxi cabs, everybody and their mom is throwing a day party, and the SXSW goodie bags are overflowing with magazines/promo CDs/gum/condoms. So for the next few days at least, let's pretend the real world doesn't exist, OK?

Jarvis Cocker [Austin Convention Center; 3 p.m.]

There are few people on the planet better suited to whisking everyone away from reality than Jarvis Cocker. Even in the highly un-rock'n'roll confines of a cramped Convention Center conference room, where he delivered a lecture titled "Saying the Unsayable With Jarvis Cocker", the former Pulp frontman radiated star power. The SXSW website description of the talk said, "What is the function of lyrics in popular song? Jarvis Cocker addresses the issue with examples from other people's songs and his own." Insert almost any other songwriter's name where it says "Jarvis Cocker", and you've got the makings of a deathly dull couple hours. But Jarvis is a man who already stalks a stage like the sexiest college professor in history. Put a wooden pointer in his hand and give him a PowerPoint presentation and a bunch of YouTube clips, and you've got one hell of a party.

Sure, Jarvis didn't really teach anybody anything they didn't already know: Song lyrics are important, except when they aren't (see: "Louie Louie"). Some lyrics can be poetry (Leonard Cohen), some can't (Des'ree's "Life"). James Blunt's "You're Beautiful" is a terrible song, David Bowie's "'Heroes'" is a great song. And so on. But hearing these truths delivered with Cocker's conviction and dry wit was truly a treat. He even broke out an acoustic guitar, performing the first song he ever wrote (a charming goof called "Shakespeare Rock") and a breathtaking version of the Pulp classic "Babies".

__It's going to be hard for any band at this year's SXSW to top that one.
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__Ladyhawke [Stubb's; 9 p.m.]
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I wasn't expecting much from Ladyhawke's live show, and I got what I expected. The cover of her self-titled 2008 debut album depicts New Zealander Pip Brown playing video games in her underwear in her bedroom, surrounded by cats and musical equipment, and the best aspects of Ladyhawke's pitch-perfect 1980s radio synth-pop feel like intensely private moments. Brown doesn't seem to have embraced the cathartic aspect of airing her secrets on stage just yet, proceeding cautiously and unsmilingly through her 40-minute set. She loosened up a bit towards the end, closing with a limber version of "My Delirium". But the major sonic triumph of Ladyhawke's music-- its unabashed glossy new wave cheesiness-- just doesn't come through when played by a full rock band. Her songs aren't strong enough to thrive outside the confines of their native computers.__
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__Fol Chen [Beauty Bar; 10 p.m.]
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Like Ladyhawke, Los Angeles art school weirdos Fol Chen attempted to bring synthetic electro-pop to life in an organic live band setting, with mixed results. Their best song, the cheeky, blooping "Cable TV", groaned under the weight of the imperfect sound, and the band's cult-like outfits and raccoon/Hamburgler eye makeup came across as a bit too cutesy-poo. But Fol Chen's energy was often undeniable, as was their rhythmic sense. At one point, they asked the crowd, "Do you want to hear a song we wrote about sea slugs, or do you want to hear us cover Mariah Carey?" Well, duh. An enthusiastic, falsetto-laden version of "Emotions" followed.

Side note: The Asthmatic Kitty/K/Tomlab showcase was sponsored by YouTube, which got me thinking: Wouldn't it be awesome if there was an official YouTube showcase featuring, like, Tay Zonday, Nora the Piano Cat, and the "Thriller" prison dancers?__
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__Human Highway [Red Eyed Fly; 11 p.m.]
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A cool night breeze wafted through the Red Eyed Fly's indoor/outdoor patio as Human Highway played-- a cheesy yet apt metaphor for their music. The collaboration between Nick Thorburn (Islands, ex-Unicorns) and singer/songwriter Jim Guthrie travels in comfy, laid-back folk pop, so a set in a crowded rawk bar at the height of SXSW madness probably isn't the ideal setting for them. Perhaps a beach, or a back porch on a lazy summer afternoon would be? I enjoy Human Highway's pleasant debut album Moody Motorcycle, but they're just too chill to make an engaging live band. Plus, the dissonance between Thorburn's slick, fashionable asymmetrical haircut/leather jacket/tight pants getup and Guthrie's baggy, disheveled, unshaven look was kinda jarring-- especially when you factor in a bassist in embarrassingly short denim cutoffs.__
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__The Decemberists [Stubb's; 12 a.m.]
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The first few times I listened to the new Decemberists album The Hazards of Love, I dismissed it as The Crane Wife 2: Even Cranier. Same flights of prog-folk fancy intercut with headbanging, only less engaging. But Colin Meloy's latest sprawling rock opera grew on me, the raw emotion cutting through the frilly window-dressing and the metal (yes, metal) parts feeling more and more assured. The album's few repeating musical themes lodged in my brainstem and refused to leave, and I realized: shit, this band has pulled it off yet again. The Hazards of Love's narrative concerns a pair of doomed lovers cavorting in the woods and the troubles they run into with a forest queen and a very bad man, but there really is no need to bother with all that nonsense if you don't want to. When Meloy howls, "I wager all on the hazards of love" or about how "the wanting comes in waves," it's powerful enough to overwhelm the context.

At the NPR showcase last night, the Decemberists played The Hazards of Love in its entirety, for the first time ever. Though the set (and the album) was a bit too long and dragged in parts ("Isn't It a Lovely Night?" just plain sucks, "The Rake's Song" drowned in too much percussion), overall it was a triumph. Lavender Diamond's Becky Stark and My Brightest Diamond's Shara Worden augmented the band's usual five-person lineup, playing percussion, glockenspiel, and guitar in the background before taking to the front of the stage for their respective vocal cameos. Stark has a sweet, lovely voice, but in her own work she often sounds too precious and dippie-- something her penchant for flowing dresses, flowery hair garlands, and doe-eyed staring doesn't help. But when she's cutting loose over the hard rock crunch of Hazards of Love songs like "Won't Want for Love (Margaret in the Taiga)", Stark is truly in her element as a hippie goddess.

But Shara Worden-- holy shit. Girlfriend can WAIL. I am not a fan of her My Brightest Diamond work; it's too hoity-toity for my tastes. But in her role as the Forest Queen, she's Grace Slick on Surrealistic Pillow, she's Tina Turner as the Acid Queen. The Decemberists' set was very polite (though rocking) until she stepped to the mic and all hell broke loose from her off-the-shoulder slinky black dress and silver tights. With glam moves and true rock star swagger, Worden earned the enthusiastic applause that greeted the ending of her barnstorming solo on "The Wanting Comes in Waves / Repaid". I felt bad for Becky Stark, having to follow that maelstrom with her sweet summer breeze.

At the end of the set, after completing the album, a relieved and chatty Meloy returned to the stage with only an acoustic guitar (and drummer John Moen's backing vocals) for a version of the Always a Bridesmaid single "Raincoat Song". The night ended with Her Majesty's "I Was Meant for the Stage", which culminated in a full-band freakout/collapse. Well earned, ladies and gentlemen.